


we should just kiss (like real people do)

by tiredhealer



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Favour of the Scribes, Original Work
Genre: M/M, Plutrik is real and it lives in my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27617417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredhealer/pseuds/tiredhealer
Summary: It's hard to find a moment of peace. But now Pluto has it, and he's with Roddrik, and he's going to take the chance while it's before him.(Or: Plutrik first time. A water genasi and a goliath walk into a bar)
Relationships: Pluto Winslow/Roddrik
Kudos: 4





	we should just kiss (like real people do)

Finding time alone was near impossible on the Road, and finding peace even more so. If Roddrik wasn’t on watch than Pluto was, and on the odd occasion they were on watch together there was no time to get lost, to indulge, not when anything could swoop out of the shadows at any given time. While Sanjing had been around he had at least been willing to use his sleepless nights to keep watch instead, but that inevitably meant being in debt to Sanjing, which was perhaps a fate worse than death.

Now, there’s an inn within sight. The building sits at the slope of a hill before the entrance to the Plains of Daeron, like many places in Maes it’s the cobbled together pieces of buildings that used to exist there before. The windows are wide in the front, boarded up on the second floor where the glass must not have survived damage.

Another long day on the Road has Pluto in a daze: he puts one foot before the other and lets momentum take him. He’ll be there soon, he can lay down, he can rest.

And maybe, just maybe, he’ll have time to be alone with Roddrik.

The inn receives them gratefully, trading beds for the promise of favours in the morning; Roddrik and Cedwyn will help them move some old pieces of a collapsed fence too heavy for the halfling to manage, Vercinjetorix will re-hem the curtains in the dining room and Pluto, Nalani and June will be very grateful even though there was no work for them to do to show it.

Cedwyn and Vercinjetorix steal off upstairs to their room without stopping for dinner – it’s not like either of them need to eat anyway. Pluto watches them go, a small half-smile tugging at his lips. He remembers being young and caught up with Lillian like those two are now, knows the dizzying intensity of it. He’s happy for them, in a world that takes so much and rarely gives back, it is a strange and wonderful thing to find someone to share some light with.

His gaze strays over to Roddrik, sitting further from the rest, carefully eating his dinner around the mask. He never thought he would find anyone again after Lillian, and that was fine, he was lucky enough to have her. She was love enough to fill a lifetime, even if she was far from him now.

Not that he loves Roddrik. They’re just – they’ve only known each for a short while and –

Ah, who is he kidding? He couldn’t even fool Sanjing, who barely looked beyond his own nose. Whatever he feels for Roddrik it beats hard and heavy in his chest, makes him feel breathless when Roddrik moves close in battle or outside of it.

With dinner finished, the rest of the party part ways. June heads off to her own room, and Nalani takes a step away, before turning back to Pluto.

‘I’m going to call grandma,’ they say, tapping the sending stone that hangs on a thick chain around their neck.

‘Aye, alright,’ Pluto nods. He knows Noa expects them to check in every day, that Nalani looks forward to doing that, that grandchild and grandparent are not going to be separated ever again, not totally as they once were. ‘Are ya gonna stay down here?’

‘No, I’ll just go to the other room we hired. You can share with Roddrik, goodnight!’ Nalani says, mischief stitched into every word. They’re running away before he can try to argue, but he can feel his cheeks turning purple.

It isn’t as if it’s a secret that he cares for Roddrik. He knows Roddrik cares for him too – Roddrik is too direct to play games, not capable of doing anything but wearing what he feels on his sleeve, whether that’s care or disdain. He may not be as outspoken about how he feels as, say, Vercinjetorix, but he makes it clear all the same.

Still, this is the first time they’ll have been alone in a private space for…Weeks? Months? It’s hard to say, on the Road everything blurs into itself, time tripping over its own feet and making each day feel the same. Usually, if they have a room, most of them have to cram into it together. Nalani, at least, is usually with them.

Tonight they’ll be alone. Together in a room, with a bed, alone.

He clears his throat and looks over at Roddrik, ‘Ah, well, does that sound…?’

Big shoulders shrug. ‘Fine by me, if it is with you.’

‘Aye, aye, fine by me!’ Pluto says. He rubs his neck, feels the flush of his skin beneath his own palm. Anyone would think he were a fumbling virgin, blushing like this. And he vey much is not but – well. It’s been a while.

Not that anything is going to happen. They might just sleep.

But oh, how his heart aches for the chance to even just rest at his side.

They grab their packs and head upstairs, the frail wood creaking beneath Roddrik’s size. Their room is on the first floor, tucked at the back of the long hallway. Inside, it’s much the same as most inn rooms in Maes: furniture collected from various sources and put together into the same room. The chair is painted white and slightly lopsided, the dresser a dark wood with gold handles, the bed actually just two mattresses piled on top of each other with a heap of soft blankets and pillows.

‘Well, it’s dry,’ Pluto says.

‘And there’s a roof.’ 

‘Truly, we’re living in luxury tonight.’

Behind the mask, Roddrik snorts. They step inside, kick the door shut and Pluto walks over to the bed to lay down on it. He carries such tension on him that he forgets it’s there until he can relax, until he can rest. His shoulders droop, his head tips back against the pillows. He lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes. There’s no fire in here, but the grate in the common room is large enough the warmth radiates upwards and Pluto feels like he could sink into it.

When he opens his eyes, Roddrik is watching him.

He turns away, as if he wasn’t expecting to be caught, but Pluto won’t let it go. He sits up, reaching a hand out towards where Roddrik is stood near the door still. ‘Hey, c’mere.’

Roddrik hesitates, long enough Pluto feels a stab of fear he might turn from him. Instead, he locks the door, then looks around. ‘Nalani _is_ in another room, right?’

Pluto checks around them both, just in case. ‘Aye, all clear.’

Roddrik crosses the room and sits down on the very edge of the bed. ‘I can keep an eye out, if you want to get some rest.’

Pluto moves forwards, pushing onto his knees and crawling closer to close the space between them. ‘You don’t need to keep watch here, we’re safe. We can both rest.’

He hesitates, swallows around the nerves that collect in his throat, and reaches out to lay his hand on Roddrik’s knee. ‘Not that we have to rest, of course.’

The air around them changes, charges, suddenly they’re on the brink of a cliff and Pluto fears he might fall. Roddrik puts one huge hand over his and squeezes, just lightly. ‘No of course, we don’t have to.’

‘There are other ways to relax.’

‘Absolutely.’

They look at each other. The tension stretches, and then it breaks.

Roddrik grabs Pluto by the hips and Pluto gladly goes closer, slings a leg over so he’s kneeling on Roddrik’s lap, so their bodies are pressed together belly to shoulder. He kisses Roddrik’s mask, the sharp edges of it, the parts of the armour that have been worn by magic damage and chipped by weapon blades.

As he does Roddrik’s hands are moving up his back, squeezing the softness of his hips, along the hard sizes of his armour. There are layers upon layers between them but already just the way Roddrik’s hands move make him gasp, remind him how long its been, how much he’s been desperate for this.

‘We uh – we could try that potion, Sanjing gave me,’ Pluto says. ‘It’s in my bag. If you want to?’

‘We aren’t sure if it’ll work,’ Roddrik says, but his hands are still moving, still caressing him. ‘And this is Sanjing, after all.’

‘Aye, you’re right, of course. But I don’t – for once, I don’t think he was tryin’ to be an ass. I think he meant for it to be…Helpful.’

‘Even so, he admitted he wasn’t sure it would work. Just that vampirism cancels out choke cherry so, it _should_ work.’

‘Aye,’ Pluto conceded, feeling himself start to deflate a little. ‘I suppose.’

‘I mean, this isn’t me saying _no._ I just want you to be sure.’

Pluto has spent countless nights thinking about Roddrik, about what it would be to finally see his face uncovered as he had in the dream they went through in Nalani’s house, about his pale skin and dark eyes and the curve of his cheek and the slant of his jaw. And above all, his lips. He’s thought about what it would be to press their mouths together, to feel the warmth of him, the wet of his tongue.

‘I’m sure,’ Pluto nods. ‘This world takes and it takes, Roddrik. I won’t let it take this.’

‘If you get sick…’

‘I won’t,’ Pluto says, and the conviction in his voice is fierce and true. ‘I know I won’t.’

Roddrik stares up at him. An unusual angle for both of them, but with Pluto straddling him it gives him the height advantage for once. ‘Alright,’ he says slowly. ‘Get the potion.’

Pluto kisses the forehead of Roddrik’s mask and gets up. He goes to his pack, fumbles through it until he finds the large glass bottle Sanjing gave him. It’s filled with thick dark liquid: blood. Sanjing’s blood, specifically, given to Pluto as a thank you.

He opens the lid and takes a cap-full as ordered. The taste is metallic and bitter. He cringes around it, stuffing it back into the bag. But no matter the taste, if it works it will be worth it.

When he returns to Roddrik he reaches for Pluto, gets him back in his lap, holds his hips tight. They give the blood time to get in his system, to give him whatever layer of defence it might provide.

Then, slowly, clasp by clasp, Pluto undoes the mask. He lays it carefully on the bed beside them, and only then does he let himself look. Roddrik is paler here than the rest of him, the one place that even when he washes is nearly always covered. His dark hair clings to his forehead and Pluto gently sweeps it back with a thumb. ‘There ya are,’ he whispers.

He leans in and lets his mouth map the lines of Roddrik’s face, committing them to memory with his tongue: the curve of his cheekbone, the scar that runs over his left cheek, the smooth slope his nose, the veins around his eyes, the stubble that scratches at his cheeks as he kisses over it.

And then his lips: parted slightly from Pluto’s attentions, darker than his pale skin, chapped and dry. Pluto stares, looks up to meet Roddrik’s dark gaze, then back down.

He’s dreamed of this, of this moment, and he hesitates only long enough for Roddrik to have a chance to change his mind, to decide the risk isn’t worth it. Roddrik doesn’t.

So Pluto kisses him.

At first, it’s nothing more than their bare lips together, but that alone is so much. More than Pluto has had since he lost Lillian, more than Roddrik has felt since he was forced to wear the mask. They both shiver against each other. Roddrik lets out a sound too low to be a gasp, but Pluto feels it, and echoes it in return.

The kiss is the final snap of the thread. They both plummet, down into all the feelings and wants and needs they’ve been holding onto for so long, _too_ long.

His lips part against Roddrik’s and he flicks his tongue against his lower lip, sweeping it along the skin to wet it before Roddrik’s mouth opens and their tongues are touching, hesitantly at first, then not. They can’t stay hesitant, there’s too much built between them, too much loneliness and tension and desire now pouring between their parted lips.

Roddrik’s hands are moving on his back, undoing the clasps of Pluto’s armour, stripping away the hard outer layer and tossing it aside until there’s only the soft sweater he wears beneath. The grey wool has seen years of wear and tear and is threadbare in parts but it’s still soft, still warm, hugging the slope of his stomach and keeping the chill out during long nights on the Road.

But they aren’t on the Road anymore. They’re inside, they’re in bed, and so he doesn’t need it.

As Pluto takes Roddrik’s lower lip and sucks on it between both of his, Roddrik pushes his hands under the warmth of the sweater. He’s still wearing his gloves and the cold dragon-bone armour makes Pluto jump as he touches him.

‘Roddrik, love, ah do ya think you could lose the gloves…?’

‘Oh, sure, sure, sorry it’s been…’ He trails off, but he doesn’t have to say it.

‘I know,’ he soothes with a kiss. ‘Me too.’

Roddrik sits back just enough to take the gauntlets off. His hands beneath are calloused and rough and Pluto can’t resist, he takes them in his hands and kisses over each knuckle, runs his tongue along the grooves and creases.

Beneath him Roddrik groans, using his grip on Pluto’s hands to pull him in and press a kiss against his temple, against the curve of his cheek, dragging his teeth down across the edge of his jaw. Pluto moans, the sound wavering, and he almost bites down on his lip to muffle it but Roddrik groans low in return and gods if that sound doesn’t go straight to Pluto’s cock.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ he whispers, arching into Roddrik’s mouth as the other kisses along his throat.

Roddrik’s response is to sink his teeth into the tender spot where Pluto’s throat meets his shoulder. Pluto gasps, hips rocking down against Roddrik’s lap, hands tight around his. _Fuck,_ that feels so good. Roddrik could unravel him with just his mouth and nothing more and gods if that thought doesn’t make Pluto’s cock throb.

He stays at Pluto’s throat, kissing and sucking at the soft skin there, rubbing his tongue against the point where stubble fades out to bare skin. Pluto has seen Roddrik tear men apart with little more than his hands, he doesn’t doubt that if Roddrik wanted to, he could do the same to his throat now. And something about that, about having a man so strong and powerful and drenched in violence beneath him, kissing and stroking him, makes Pluto feel wild. He wants to lose himself in Roddrik, and for Roddrik to get lost in him.

He pushes at Roddrik’s chest and he gladly lays back for him. Pluto follows, kissing him again, pushing his tongue into Roddrik’s mouth to hear the way it makes him moan. His moan is a low, rumbling thing that makes their chests shake when they’re pressed together. Pluto wants to snatch that sound from him as often as he can.

Pluto is a gentle man. Careful, considerate, he tries to think before he acts – sometimes he thinks too much. Tonight, he isn’t gentle as he tears the straps on Roddrik’s armour open, as he tugs and peels at the layers of repurposed dragon bone that cover him. He’s seen Roddrik this bare only once before and they were with the party, in a river, and he was far away. Now he’s here and Pluto’s going to touch him, to strip him bare.

Beneath the armour is an undershirt that Pluto wastes no time in shoving up. He kisses along Roddrik’s stomach, along the skin drawn taut over thick muscles, stopping to bite and suck as he goes. He works his way up to Roddrik’s chest, kissing over his nipples, biting hard enough it draws a guttural grunt from Roddrik above him. Pluto smirks against his skin when he does; Roddrik’s so careful, so closed off, Pluto wants all those layers gone, he wants to know what Roddrik likes and he wants to give it all to him, wants to beg for Roddrik to let him have it.

He keeps going until he’s straddling Roddrik’s waist and kissing along his throat, biting and nipping at his jaw. Beneath him Roddrik pants, his hips rocking up to meet Pluto’s and gods he can feel the pressure of his cock already, can feel how hard it is beneath him.

‘You feel good,’ Roddrik whispers, the words coming out a little unsteady. ‘Really, really good.’

‘Aye?’ Pluto teases, pressing a smirking kiss to the corner of his mouth. ‘Why don’t you show me how good?’

It’s a blur of movement as Roddrik rolls him over to get Pluto beneath him. He gasps as he hits the mattress but he’s smiling, smirking more like, his lips parting into a whimper of pleasure as Roddrik gets between his thighs and pulls the undershirt off. He’s huge, that much has always been obvious, but somehow seeing him without the armour only makes it so much more obvious; his shoulders aren’t big because of the armour, they are simply that big, wide and broad, his arms thick with muscle, his chest heavy and his stomach thick. There’s so _much_ of him, Pluto feels almost dizzy. He could spend a lifetime kissing him and would that be enough to trace every inch?

As Roddrik kneels above him Pluto stretches out, arches his hips and lets his arms drape above his head. He watches the way Roddrik watches him and makes him bold, makes him smirk all over again, ‘Are you just going to look?’

‘Maybe I’m enjoying the view,’ Roddrik says.

‘I think you’d like it better if I was as undressed as you are.’

Roddrik tilts his head. It’s wonderful to see how his expression changes, how he smiles when he does a little chesty laugh. ‘You know? I think you might be right.’

He puts his hands on their stomach and slowly drags them up, taking the sweater along with it. He bares Pluto’s stomach, softened from years of good eating back at home, softened from the fact he’s not a young man anymore. He bares his chest, the marks of his top surgery, the scales along the scars shining in the dull light. Pluto raises his head and arms enough that Roddrik can take the sweater off and lay it to the side.

He barely has a moment to register the cold of the room before Roddrik is on him: his mouth on his throat, sucking those same marks, making it so Pluto _knows_ they’ll be visible in the morning. The thought makes him moan and he bucks his hips, rubbing his cock against Roddrik’s stomach even through the material of his pants.

Roddrik moves down his body, drags his tongue along the scars on his chest, rubbing his teeth in those old wounds to make Pluto writhe with the sensation of it. He starts off…Not shy exactly, not hesitant, but slow, taking his time, seeing what Pluto likes and moving with it, it seems. But as he keeps going, as his lips and tongue keep trailing across Pluto’s chest he starts to lose himself, starts to get lost in the sensation, and Pluto can only lay there and pant as he watches it happen. By the time Roddrik reaches his hips he’s placing wet, open mouthed kisses against Pluto’s skin, sucking it to leave red welts.

He bites down on the soft curve of Pluto’s stomach so hard it makes him almost scream as he feels Roddrik’s teeth sink in hard enough to give him a sparking flare of pain.

Roddrik stops, but Pluto raises his hips to encourage him, whispers, ‘No please don’t stop that feels so good, please, please.’

‘You liked that, huh?’ Roddrik says.

Pluto nods, feeling himself blush, his skin turning lavender with it.

Roddrik looks up at him, tilts his head, and deliberately bites at his stomach again. He doesn’t try to hide his gasp of delight that time, as he feels Roddrik bite and suck at his skin, as the sting of pain shoots through him, down his spine to his cock. He thrusts his hips up with each bite, each suck, grinding against Roddrik’s hips above him.

He doesn’t stop, just keeps moving until he’s past the droop of Pluto’s stomach and onto his breeches where he undoes them, shoves them down, doesn’t even wait before getting his mouth around Pluto’s cock.

The heat of his mouth is immediate and Pluto groans, dropping a hand to wind his fingers through Roddrik’s hair. ‘Fuck,’ he whispers. It’s all he can manage at first, made speechless by the way it feels so have Roddrik’s mouth around him.

He sucks at the tip of Pluto’s cock, licking and lathering his tongue back and forth across the slit to coax pre-cum out of it that he can then spread. Pluto squeezes his hand against Roddrik’s hair and whines, bucking his hips, trying to encourage him deeper.

But Roddrik, it seems, is getting a sense for what he likes. He doesn’t give it to him straight away – which is, really, exactly what Pluto wants. Instead he uses his thick fist to pump his cock in slow, deliberate motions, while his mouth still only works the tip, still only gives him a fraction of what he so desperately needs.

Then, just as Pluto whines, as he breaks around a _please,_ Roddrik parts his lips and takes his cock fully into his mouth. He goes slowly, taking him deeper and deeper until every inch of Pluto’s cock is buried in Roddrik’s mouth and he lays there, panting and writhing, desperate for more but willing to wait for Roddrik to give it to him.

And he does. He begins to build up a rhythm, taking Pluto all the way then pulling back, sucking and hollowing his cheeks as he goes. Pluto squeezes the bedding in his water hand and Roddrik’s head in the other, digging the blunt edges of his nails into the hard press of Roddrik’s scalp.

Roddrik fucks him with his mouth fast and hard, barely giving him time to pant out a moan before he squeezes his fist around the base of his cock or sucks harder to make Pluto lose it all over again.

His orgasm builds hot in his thighs, spreads between his crotch and Pluto squeezes his legs around Roddrik’s head as he pants, ‘Love, I’m not, I can’t last-’ 

And Roddrik stops. He pulls back, his lips making a wet pop as he releases Pluto’s cock.

Pluto stares up at him, eyes wide, ‘What are you…’ 

Roddrik tilts his head. ‘Well, it’s still early. Figured you’d want to wait.’

Oh. ‘Oh,’ he whispers. ‘So that’s it, is it?’

Usually, Roddrik’s expression would be hidden behind the mask. Tonight, Pluto sees the little smirk that tugs at his lips, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Gods, this man is going to destroy him.

Pluto pushes up, getting his arms around Roddrik and kissing him as they roll the other way, as he gets on top of Roddrik and grinds their cocks together. They lose themselves in each other, kisses turning sloppy, tongues fumbling together as they grab at squeeze at anywhere they can reach. Roddrik squeezes the soft roll of fat that sits at the base of Pluto’s back, Pluto drags his nails along Roddrik’s rib cage to leave blunt indentations.

Pluto mouths along the swell of his stomach, the underside where his skin is warm, where it might be softer on anyone else, but Roddrik is a goliath and so he is all strength, all unyielding edges. He mouths at the spot where his thigh meets his groin as his hand strays down, into his breeches, and freezes.

Ah. Well, that makes sense, at least. What else would a literal goliath have if not a cock to match?

He looks up at Roddrik and raises his eyebrows, ‘Well,’ he says.

Roddrik doesn’t blush exactly, but there’s a certain greyish hue to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. ‘Well,’ he agrees.

Pluto can’t help the grin that spreads over his face. Gods, he’s going to take every last inch, as much as he can manage and then some. He wants it all.

He pushes up onto his knees and pulls Roddrik’s breeches down over his hip, to his knees where Roddrik can then kick them off. And Pluto takes a deep breath, steels himself, and looks back at his cock.

It’s huge. Which, in hindsight, of course it is. Roddrik is huge, this is obviously not going to be any different, but even so the sight takes his breath away; it’s longer than Pluto’s forearm, thicker too, with the head flushed and swollen with leaking pre-cum.

Is all of it even going to fit?

A stupid question. Of course it will: he’s going to make sure of it.

Pluto leans forward, wrapping his fingers around Roddrik’s cock, his hand _just_ wide enough to reach all the way around. He pumps him slowly, taking his time in making the long journey from base to tip and back again, letting himself take in just how huge his cock really is.

‘Love,’ Pluto whispers as he thumbs the head and makes Roddrik groan, makes his thighs tremble. ‘You’re so huge, so gorgeous.’

Roddrik shudders beneath him, his breath coming out a little laboured as he says. ‘Am I gonna be too big for you?’

Pluto looks at him with one eyebrow raised.

‘What? I mean. It is…and you are…’

‘I’m not a coward is what I am,’ Pluto says, and he bends his head to take Roddrik’s cock in his mouth.

His lips strain around the thickness of it, around how wide and heavy his cock is against his tongue. When he takes it deeper, he can barely get it half-way down the shaft before it’s hitting the back of his mouth. Pluto breathes through his nose, lets his throat relax, takes more until he’s deep-throating him, and there’s still so _much._ He works the rest with his hands while he slowly moves back and forth; the strain worth it for the way his cock tastes along his tongue, for the way Roddrik shivers beneath him. He only keeps it up so long – he has, after all, other plans for Roddrik’s cock – and when he lets go he stays between his thighs for a while, sucking at the tip to watch the way Roddrik shivers beneath him.

‘You’re amazing,’ Pluto tells him between wet, languid licks. ‘Your body, your cock, all of it. I want you to wreck me.’

‘Yeah?’ Roddrik pants. ‘Come here then.’

Pluto needs no encouragement. He lays down beside Roddrik and they kiss again, getting lost in the feeling of it; for all of tonight it is this he’ll miss the most when they’re back on the Road, the simple intimacy of their tongues rubbing together, their mouths pressed tight.

But for tonight, they have this, and more.

He gets on his hands and knees, back arched, while Roddrik fucks him open with oiled fingers. His hands are so large one finger from him feels like two from a human man, but Pluto loves it, the size of it, the way he can fill him up so effortlessly, so easily. There are all sorts of magics in the world, Pluto knows he could find one that would let him take all of his fingers and barely feel the stretch.

He feels dizzy at the thought. Next time, next time, for now two fingers fucking him deep and wide is more than enough. He rocks back onto Roddrik’s hand, groaning low beneath his breath, knowing even as this stretches him it will be nothing compared to his cock.

And sure enough, when he’s fucked open and as ready as he can be, Roddrik gives his hip a squeeze and says, ‘You’re sure?’

‘Gods yes, don’t make me wait any longer.’

He doesn’t.

His cock stretches him even further than his fingers did but Pluto moans in delight at it, at the way it feels to be stretched so impossibly and wonderfully open. He can’t take the entire length – not today, at least, though another day he will, he will – but he takes enough that it leaves them both shuddering and gasping, that when Pluto places a hand on his stomach he swears he can feel it moving inside him as Roddrik starts to thrust.

He starts off so careful, so controlled. It doesn’t last. That careful control snaps like the thread that they held between them and Roddrik begins to rock his hips harder and harder, sinking deeper into the wet heat of him as Pluto writhes.

‘Gods, yes, Roddrik love you feel so good, so big inside me, so thick, so huge. Feel so full of you, never want to be empty, never again,’ Pluto whispers as he drops onto his forearms. He lets his head rest on his arms and arches his hips up so Roddrik can have a better angle and fuck into him deeper.

They lose themselves in each other; in the sound of Roddrik’s cock sinking in and out, at the way they both moan and writhe, at the feeling of the other that pushes them closer and closer to the edge.

As he fucks him Roddrik has his hands on Pluto’s hips, squeezing the softness of his love handles, rubbing them between his calloused palms. He’s quiet, unlike Pluto who offers mumbled words of love and adoration, but he speaks via his hands instead, in the way he cradles Pluto’s body, in the way he strokes and rubs him as his cock fucks him deeper and deeper.

Pluto breaks first. He was so desperate already from Roddrik’s mouth that it doesn’t surprise him when the feeling builds between his thighs again, when it spreads over his hips and tightens his balls. Pluto tips his head back, bites his lip hard enough to feel the sting, and whines Roddrik’s name as he spills hot over his own stomach.

He clenches around Roddrik’s cock as he does and he hears the effect that has, hears the strangled that comes out of Roddrik as he fucks into the tightness of them again and again until he spills inside them. And _gods_ how he spills, how that heat and wetness fills Pluto up until it's dripping between his thighs.

They slump down onto the bed together, both dazed, both panting. As Pluto comes back to himself he crawls forwards, resting his head on Roddrik’s shoulder.

‘I should put my mask back on,’ Roddrik says eventually. ‘We don’t know how long it’ll last.’

Not what he wanted to hear, but Pluto can admit it makes sense. ‘Give me a kiss, before you go?’

Roddrik answers him with a press of his lips against Pluto’s, with a kiss that’s deep and lingering and makes his toes curl. Then he sits up, reaching for the mask and clasping it back into place, hiding himself away again as he has to do.

‘You don’t have to put anything else on though, hm?’ Pluto says.

‘Hm, you know what? I don’t think I do,’ Roddrik says and lays down beside him again.

Pluto traces his fingers over Roddrik’s mask as if he were still able to trace the lines of his cheeks. ‘I enjoyed that.’

‘I did too.’

‘You’re gorgeous.’

Roddrik clears his throat a little. Pluto can’t see his face, but he knows he’s blushing – or his version of it, at least. ‘You are too.’

He _does_ blush at that and leans in closer again, tangling their legs, tugging the sheets over them both. With neither of them having to go on watch, or keep an eye out for dangers at the roadside, they simply lay there, stroking each other’s bodies, feeling the similarities and the differences, until both sink down into sleep.

And when Pluto wakes up to find Roddrik still asleep beside him he knows two things:

They’ll be staying at inns more often from now on.

And next time, he’s going to take every damn inch.


End file.
